


Dark Drink, Dark Heart

by Indigo_Rose_227



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 17:36:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5136638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indigo_Rose_227/pseuds/Indigo_Rose_227
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My first prompt fill! Please see bottom of fic for full details and link to prompt. If you are the OP of the prompt I hope you enjoy it!</p><p>Takes place after Wicked Eyes, Wicked Heart. Despite being the Inquisitor, Vir'Atisha Lavellan (Tisha), is enjoying the company of her friends after spending time in Orlais. However, someone schemes in the background. With so many newcomers it's bound to happen that one will have an unhealthy fixation on the Inquisitor. </p><p>Please beware of potential triggers. No penetrative assault, but there is non-con undressing and stimulation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Drink, Dark Heart

*~*~*~*~*~*

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or settings. They all belong to Bioware. I just make them dance to my tune.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The Inquisitor Vir’Atisha Lavellan was tired. She had just spent a grueling two weeks in Orlais tending to the ball at the Winter Palace, and all of the drama the nobles could conjure up. Even after she had dealt with Briala, Gaspard, and Celene there were several minor parties throughout the city that Josephine insisted they ‘ _simply must’_ attend to garner support from the stuffy elitist locals.

She vaguely wondered if her heels would ever stop hurting from those damnable dress shoes. Josephine had to hide them when they were leaving the city. Tisha had tried to set them on fire as a celebration for a job well done, but they were confiscated since _‘you never know when you’ll be required to go to another event where dress attire is warranted.’_ Tisha loved Josie like a sister, but the woman drove her crazy about fashion.

She pushed the door open to the ‘Herald’s Rest’ tavern in Skyhold, and felt a sense of relief when she saw her friends gathered around, and having a great time. Everyone was happy to be back home at Skyhold, and out of that drama-fest Orlais. No intrigue. No ‘Game’. No stupid footwear. There were a fresh slew of people from Orlais, Nevarra, and even Antiva. Those that had heard the Inquisitor beat the rulers of Orlais in their own Game, and wanted to see for themselves the elf who had triumphed.

The Iron Bull was in his usual space in the back; sprawled out languidly in the largest wooden chair they had available.

“Boss!” He shouted warmly, and held up a large tankard as a greeting. “Join us for a drink!”

The Inquisitor smiled, and waved to the barkeep for a drink as she made her way towards the rowdy group. She passed by Maryden who was singing a lilting tune about their rogue friend Sera. Tisha sat down on a chair across from Bull, and next to Stitches. A nervous elf smiled at her as he delivered her ale, and she took a big gulp. It burned a bit causing her to cough, but she wouldn’t trade it for all the blood red wine in Orlais. Dark drinks with dark eyes peering deceptively friendly over the rim was not a way to enjoy oneself.

“I am so glad to be out of that place, boss,” Bull said. “I am surprised I was able to hold back from cracking some of those assholes’ heads together.”

“Was it really so bad, Bull?” Tisha asked, and took another swig. The burn produced only a small cough this time.

He snorted, and shook his massive head. His horns suddenly looked dangerous with the way he swung them side to side.

“They kept acting like I was some dumbass muscle. I had three people ask if I was available to kill a family member or spouse there at the party. Several people just gawked, and stared. One woman actually made the comment that my horns reminded her of a pair her husband had hanging over their mantle at home,” he growled out that last part.

“Well that’s not as bad as me,” Tisha admitted. “Although at the start of the evening I did have people demanding I refill their drinks.”

Iron Bull, and his crew burst out laughing at that. “No shitting, huh? I bet they felt like idiots once they saw you in action on the dance floor.”

She shrugged, and downed the last of her drink. Her body was starting to feel pleasantly warm. She had missed this camaraderie back in Orlais. Everything was so stiff. Every detail agonized and combed over til she felt like the knots in her shoulders would take up permanent residence.

“I would hope so, but since people say all elves look the same they still may not have noticed,” she said with a laugh.

Bull and his Chargers laughed with her. It was nice to spend time with them. Krem suddenly took the opportunity to launch into a story about the time they had been hired by an Orlesian woman for “party security”. Apparently it was actually just a clever excuse to have guards for a secret orgy she hosted once a year without her husband present.

Another round of drinks, and still chuckling with mirth Tisha stood up to go check on other people in the tavern. Cole was up in his usual spot. He was unhappy about the masks in Orlais; frustrated that no one was just honest with they want. Tisha enjoyed her talks with her spirit friend. When she turned to leave Cole raised his eyes to her, and frowned, saying, “Bitter. Try not to choke. Such beauty if only I could taste for a moment.”

“Cole, are you alright?” She asked.

His gaze was far away. He was distracted, and looked fretful. With a small smile she pat him on the shoulder, and made her way back downstairs. Sera wasn’t in her room; probably out somewhere pulling pranks.

When Tisha reached the landing she noticed there were several more people in the bar than earlier. An Orlesian man, drunk and reeking of ale, came up to her and shook her hand vigorously. He laughed without saying anything, and ambled over to the bar. A few of the Skyhold kitchen staff were there; they watched with amusement as the drunk Orlesian tried to order a rare Antivan brandy that Skyhold didn’t stock. His voice reached high frantic octaves before dejectedly taking the same house ale he’d been drinking all night.

Tisha noticed a small group of foreigners huddled by the far wall. Cullen and his soldiers were heatedly talking about something over a map, and she didn’t want to bother them at the moment. She pressed past throngs of happy, hooting Skyhold citizens. Bull’s Chargers had convinced Maryden to play a bawdy song, and Bull was loudly singing about a man fortunately named “Horatio”. The only spots left were either at the bar next to the drunken noble, or one at the far table. As she approached the residents went quiet. They stared at her in awe before one of them blurted out a hello. A small, nervous woman stood, and tried to give her seat to the Inquisitor. Tisha smiled, and waved the offer away, and indicated for the woman to sit again. She took the open seat at the corner of the table, and made idle chat while waiting for her friends to be available.

She met Romul and Revus, twin male elves that had been servants at the Winter Palace. They had grown tired of the treatment they received, and were disgusted at Briala’s lack of effort to help the elves at her lovers’ court. They had followed the drunk Orlesian noble to Skyhold, and planned to stay when the he had left. There was an attractive Antivan man named Marcus with eyes like honey, and hair like black silk. He kissed her hand, and purred his adoration through a thick accent. He had been an ambassador from Antiva who had also tired of The Game, and decided to come see what the Inquisition had to offer before returning to his homeland. The last person at the table was the woman who had offered her chair. Her name was Claire. She was a dainty soft spoken woman from Nevarra who was in awe that she had seen _the_ Cassandra Pentaghast at the Palace. She had wanted to come here to meet Cassandra, and learn what it took to be a Seeker.

Tisha was happy to meet a few more of the new inhabitants of Skyhold. She made her goodbyes, and on standing noticed that Cullen’s group seemed to have stopped their meeting finally. She caught the attention of the bartender again, and waved for another drink. The crowd wasn’t as thick as she walked towards her commander. They were at the table closest to the door. Cullen’s soldiers were less boisterous than Bull’s Chargers, who were now being led in song by Dalish. When the group dissolved into raucous laughter Tisha couldn’t help but be grateful for the more mellow company. The server elf appeared at her side again with the same nervous smile as before as he furnished another fresh drink.

“It’s on the house courtesy of Messere,” he tilted his head towards the left vaguely indicating a group of people before dashing back to the barking bartender.

“You have an admirer,” Cullen said wink. He craned his head trying to see if anyone was looking at the Inquisitor, but whoever had sent the drink was keeping a low profile.

Tisha laughed, and took a sip of the new drink in her hand. She sputtered, and coughed at the way it burned. A soldier to her left gently pat her on the back till the coughing subsided.

“Must be good if it burns like that! The Qunari like their drinks as deadly as their battles,” the redheaded woman said with a chuckle.

Tisha turned to look over at Bull and his Chargers. They had looked over, and stopped singing momentarily, when she began to choke. She flashed a reassuring smile, and raised her mug to them. Bull and Krem were in an intense discussion so they didn’t seem to notice her. She shrugged, and took another sip; this time it went down a little bit smoother. She made a face at the aftertaste. It was bitter; not like the sweet beverages she tended to enjoy. Looking into the mug she saw it was a dark plum color, with small red bubbles foaming at the rim. She would have to tell Bull about this Qunari drink. He would probably enjoy it a lot.

As she continued to visit with the soldiers, and Cullen, she noticed that the room felt like it was getting brighter. A distinctive ring began to creep up in her ears. She lowered her head, and looked around to see if it was coming from somewhere. Unable to find the source she was soon squinting, and holding one hand to an ear to block out the lights and sounds. The others at the table didn’t seem to notice as they went over more maneuvers, and strategies, for the upcoming training sessions.

Finally Tisha stood up, and made her excuses to leave. She felt the need to go lay down.

“I guess after all that wine in Orlais my body can’t handle a real drink,” she told the soldiers with a half-hearted laugh.

She declined Cullen’s offer to walk her back to her room. “I can make it to my quarters. I haven’t had _that_ much to drink!”

She began to regret that statement when she got out into the cool night air. It felt like the world suddenly jerked underneath her, and the sky spun at an angle. She shut her eyes, and took a few steadying breaths. When she felt like her feet had the best grasp on the ground they could have she began the careful process of walking back towards the main building. There was no one else out at this hour. She walked by the area where Cassandra trained endlessly each day that they weren’t adventuring together. Just as she passed the last dummy she heard a soft noise behind her. Unable to turn fast enough she was thrown off balance when something shoved her from the left. Her body was too stiff to turn, and she fell to the ground with a lifeless thud. She felt panic rising in her chest as her nose and mouth ground into the earth. As though the she wasn’t experiencing it firsthand, she watched as the ground began to move, and barely felt the sensation of being dragged. Whoever had her at their mercy took her into the unoccupied building by the training site.

There was a bedroll and pillow already laid out on the ground. A lantern was resting on a barrel casting an ominous glow around the small room. There were pieces of dummy, sticks, and straw that had been pushed up against the wall to make space. The wet smell of mildew permeated everything here.

Her attacker dragged her onto the bedroll, and laid her head gently on the pillow. She was unable to talk, unable to scream, unable to even conjure the magic that pounded in her blood with each frantic heartbeat.

“Oh creators you are so gorgeous,” a soft voice came from by her feet. She felt a fresh wave of terror when she realized she couldn’t even command her head to look down.

Suddenly fingers snaked up to her collar, and began the process of unbuttoning her top. She took a few quick breaths, but was unable to get any force behind the words that were aching to tear from her. The fingers continued their descent, until her top was open, and the chilly air hit her skin. She felt goose bumps raising up, and her nipples hardened from the cold.

“Oh! Excited my dear? I would never have guessed…” the low voice purred out.

A head bent down, still too low for her to see, but she felt a hot tongue suddenly circling one of her buds through fabric. She groaned in protest, but that was all she was able to do. Unfortunately that only seemed to enflame her attacker more. They pulled her breastband down, and began to continue the oral assault on both of her breasts by alternating licking, sucking and gentle bites. Tears pricked in Tisha’s eyes. She felt like such a fool for turning Cullen down! Her attacker moaned, not paying attention to her face, and she felt against her lower leg the distinctive impression of an erection. The man grunted, and rutted against her like an animal. She wanted to fight back! This should not be happening!

She felt the internal shivers of a tremble when the man trailed kisses down her abdomen. Every lap of his tongue made her skin crawl. His fingers had just unfastened her pants, began to pull them and her smalls down in one motion when he suddenly stopped. Tisha lay there stunned; topless, and her pants so low she felt the breeze on her pubic hair. There was a loud yelp, and a grunt, and suddenly a face was above hers. It was Krem!

“Your worship! Are you ok?!” He asked rather frantically.

She was unable to respond.

Krem understood at once, and spat several curses in Tevinter that would have probably made Dorian blush. He helped to pull her pants back up, and closed her shirt back over her breasts.

“I’m sorry it took us so long to find you,” he said as he fastened her top. “The chief and I thought that elf looked suspicious, but he slipped out before either of us noticed.”

Tisha could hear sounds from outside of something being hit hard, and crying.

“Chief wanted to take care of the bastard personally,” Krem explained.

Tisha gasped, and the tears began to flow freely now. They left hot trails down her cheek bones, and pooled on her ears. She squeezed her eyes tight, feeling so weak and helpless.

“Hey, it’s ok Tisha,” Krem whispered, his voice suddenly soothing. He lifted her head off of the filthy pillow, and rested it on his lap. He reached down to hold her hand – being mindful to not touch her breasts. He ran a calloused thumb over the soft skin on her knuckles. She felt protection and comfort emanating from the gesture. She tried with all of her might to squeeze him back, but she still had no control over her muscles.

“I’m going to stay with you till this is all over. The chief, and I will see you safely back to your room. Then tomorrow this didn’t happen, not unless you need one of us to talk to,” Krem said with his eyes trained on the door.

She sobbed at that. She had always enjoyed visiting with Krem, and thought he was a good mercenary. She never realized that he was such a good person too.

Krem just continued to stroke her hand, and they waited.

By the time Bull seemed sufficiently done beating the man Tisha could move her limbs a little bit, and was close to being able to speak. It came out jumbled, and quiet, but Krem seemed to get her meaning. Bull strode in the room, a look of concern etched on his face.

“You ok, boss?” he whispered after a moment of silence.

Tisha squeezed her eyes shut again, and shook her head. Krem squeezed her one hand in both of his. As though it took all of her effort she finally managed to weakly curl her fingers against his rough palm. A soft, choked, sob escaped her throat.

Bull nodded, and absently rubbed the back of his hands. “You won’t have to worry about that _bas_ ever again.”

Tisha looked over to see that there were several open wounds on his knuckles from pummeling her assailant.

She opened her mouth to speak, her jaw felt detached and unresponsive so she managed only a quiet, “Who…?”

Krem looked to Bull, “She wants to know who the fucker was, chief?”

Bull studied her face a moment before crouching down in front of her. Krem gently pushed her upright so she was sitting in front of him, and propped up on Krem’s chest so she could look Bull in the eyes.

“It was the elf who was serving us drinks all night. He was a servant in Orlais, and it seems you impressed him so much he had to follow you all the way back here.” He said carefully. “He brought along some of his former master’s ‘tricks’ so it looks like he had planned to do this from the moment he left Val Royeux.”

Tisha nodded, feeling another small piece of her strength returning. She bit her lip, and looked downward, feeling ashamed.

Bull reached out, and gently lifted her chin with one of his strong fingers.

“Don’t blame yourself. That guy was a sick fuck, and you’re not at fault. We all let our guard down so don’t beat yourself up,” He said intensely.

Tisha sniffled, another fresh set of tears, she tried to raise her arms, but failed. Fortunately Krem was there behind her. He held her arms up, and Bull leaned forward to embrace her. She had Krem at her back, and Iron Bull in front of her. She felt safe, and protected.

“Thank you,” she whispered in his ear.

“Anytime boss,” Bull replied.

“We’re here for you,” Krem added.

When the embrace ended Bull gently scooped her up in his arms. Both he and Krem escorted her back to her chambers. She was so drained that she almost dozed off cradled in his arms. Before she knew it she was being deposited onto her plush mattress. Krem unfastened, and removed her boots, but that was as far as he went. Bull pulled the blankets over her body, and sat on the floor by her bed.

“You going to be ok boss?” he asked.

Tisha smiled at both of the men, she reached out and took both of them by the hand, and gave another squeeze.

“With friends like you two what enemy stands a chance?” She asked.

All three of them chuckled at that. By then most of the poison had worked itself out of her system, and she actually had more control over her body. As both men retreated to give the Inquisitor some privacy they both quietly made a deal watch over her chamber door half the night. The elf was currently being dumped on the far side of the mountain by the other Chargers, but they both felt easier knowing that if anything else were to happen they’d be there.

As Tisha drifted off she heard Cole’s voice from across the room say, “It wasn’t love. He thought he loved, but what he wanted was to hurt. I didn’t see until it was wrong. Told them about the door. I’m glad it wasn’t too late.”

She pushed herself up, and saw the spirit standing by her windows. His eyes peered at her from beneath his hat; he radiated sadness.

“Bull and Krem found me thanks to you?” Tisha asked.

“Yes, they ran outside. Didn’t know where to look. Panic. She’s gone, but so is he. Where could he have gotten too? Too many places to hide dark things.” He replied.

Tisha smiled at Cole who looked like he was waging an internal war over his words.

“You helped save me Cole. They arrived just in time to stop that man. You can’t always prevent the hurt, but you helped make it less.” She said softly.

Cole nodded, and looked out the window. His demeanor was more relaxed at least.

“Do you want to forget?” He asked when he finally looked back over to Tisha.

She thought about that for a moment. She could just forget about what that man had done to her, but she would forget also how Iron Bull, Cole and Krem all came to her rescue. She’d forget about how they had been a friend when she needed it most.

Finally Tisha shook her head, and met Cole’s confused gaze from across the room. “No. There is too much good with the bad to just forget, and I don’t want to forget what you three have done for me tonight.”

Cole took stock of what she said, and seemed to think hard on it. He looked to her, and said, “Iron Bull and Krem are keeping watch over your door. Sleep now, and I will protect you from nightmares in the Fade.”

As soon as his last word was spoken he disappeared. Tisha actually felt at peace knowing she was being watched over. She felt so warm, and safe, that it took very little time for her to fall asleep when her head hit the pillow. Iron Bull, Krem, and Cole true to their words let nothing else harm the Inquisitor that night.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Here’s the full prompt from

http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/15866.html?view=59860986#t59860986

**Inquisitor + or / Any, sexual assault intervention**

_(Anonymous)_

The Inquisition has just achieved some kind of victory, and a bunch of Inquisition personnel are celebrating in the Herald's Rest. The Inquisitor (no preference for race, class, or gender) is making the rounds, going from table to table and sitting down and talking with the revelers—trying to get to know the people they're sending off on perilous missions to all corners of Thedas.  
  
One of these revelers is angry with the Inquisitor for some reason and drugs their drink, with nefarious intentions. This goes largely unnoticed in the chaos of the celebration. The Inquisitor doesn't realize until it's too late and they're already sleepy, unable to move, or whatever other effect the author might choose.  
  
Then one of the Inner Circle or advisors—or more than one—sees what's going on and steps in. (How far the aggressor gets before this happens is up to the author.) They deal with the situation, then ferry the Inquisitor away and sit with them while the drug wears off.  
  
Would love to see a platonic fill for this, but I'm happy to read a shippy one too!

 

 

* * *

 

I know I took a few liberties such as not having the drugging be anger induced, and not having the inquisitor do as much of a meet and greet, but I hope that I provided a story that played out to the prompters satisfaction. This is my very first prompt fill so please leave feedback!

Also I wrote this while listening to Avicii’s “Hey Brother”. I recommend you listen to it while reading. I’m curious if it enhances the reading experience as much as it enhanced my writing! ^_^


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